


i'll be your eyes when yours can't shine

by that_one_kid



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Baze is a good man, Force-Sensitive Chirrut Îmwe, M/M, So is Chirrut, canonical blind character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 10:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18342299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_kid/pseuds/that_one_kid
Summary: They are each other's eyes. It doesn't quite make sense. It doesn't need to.





	i'll be your eyes when yours can't shine

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being short due to time constraints but I love these two so much I had to write something

Chirrut was in a rush, jogging his way through the hallways of the temple. He dodged neatly around another initiate and then skidded to a stop in front of the unremarkable door that was his destination. He pulled the door open as quietly as he could manage, slinking in and taking the closest empty seat. 

“Ah, Initiate. So good of you to join us,” the instructor said, her tone neutral. 

“Is she actually mad at me?” Chirrut wondered under his breath, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard an answering whisper from the initiate next to him. 

“I don’t think so. She is smiling.” He recognized the voice as Baze, a fellow initiate and his frequent sparring partner, and was surprised. He hadn’t heard the larger boy speak more than twice before in all the months he’d been there. He nodded his thanks and set about listening intently to the lecture. At the end, he left with the other initiates and didn’t think about the incident further. 

~ ~ ~

Baze threw Chirrut, and he rolled to absorb the impact, springing lightly back to his feet. Then he heard a deep voice behind him, felt ripples of a kind of predatory hunger in the force, and frowned. He rushed forward and caught Baze in a headlock. As Baze struggled to free himself, Chirrut whispered into his ear. 

“The man behind us. Where does he look?” Only a few months had passed, but already asking the larger boy what he saw had become habit. Still realistically struggling for freedom, although perhaps not succeeding as quickly as one would expect, Baze whispered back.

“He is watching Instructor May.” Chirrut grimaced and felt Baze shift in his grip. 

“He needs to leave,” he said, and felt the larger boy nod. Suddenly breaking free of the headlock, he swept Chirrut’s leg and gave him a hard shove in the man’s direction. Exaggerating his sprawl, Chirrut managed to catch the man’s face with a flailing fist. When the man shouted something and an instructor came running, he turned his best wide-eyed, innocent expression up at them. The man’s splutters died down slightly.

“Allow me to provide you with a cold rag in the lounge,” the instructor said,

escorting the man away. Chirrut heard Instructor May come over as he headed back to the mat where Baze was waiting. 

“Take care to keep your sparring from injuring visitors,” she said, her tone dry but laced with humor. Then, more quietly. “And I am perfectly capable of ejecting visitors myself.” Chirrut bowed his head to hide his smile. 

~ ~ ~

“Be cautious,” Chirrut warned Baze in an undertone. “The Force feels… off. Heavy.” No sooner had he spoken than a shout tore through the air. He grabbed Baze’s arm and dragged them both back into an alley as a gang of armed men rushed past. 

“They intend to kill,” Chirrut told Baze, who hummed with thought. He always trusted Chirrut when he said The Force had told him something. He was the only one.

“It is our duty to protect, is it not?” Baze said at last, and Chirrut grinned. 

“That it is,” he said, and led the way, tracing the darkness in The Force to its source. And two hours later, when they were being scolded at length for using their training on a common street gang outside of the temple and without orders, Chirrut didn’t even need the Force to feel the pride rolling off his erstwhile companion. 

~ ~ ~

Chirrut didn’t care for spaceships. Something about the speed, the metal, the distance from others, lessened his sense of the Force. It was like having his senses wrapped in cotton. So when he learned that as full-fledged Guardians they would stay on-site full time he wasn’t exactly upset. Time passed, and a war began. A gleam of kyber crystal, one more unauthorized fight, a quick visit to a local rebellion dungeon, and Chirrut found himself being roughly shoved into a ship, Baze already clambering in after him. Muffled senses or not, he felt the fear and rage darkening the Force as the pilot and his droid snapped back and forth. Once it seemed the danger had passed, he turned to Baze. 

“Baze,” he said, to draw his partner out of whatever was happening in his head. “Tell me. All of it?” The delay in response was staggering, unexpected, terrifying. “Tell me,” he insisted, trying to keep his frustration and fear out of his tone and only partially succeeding. 

“All of it,” Baze said, his voice rough and broken. Whatever it was that the rest of them had seen from the spacecraft’s window, it was terrible. But he had Baze, and Baze had him. They'd see a way through eventually. 


End file.
